


Sanctuary

by Meloncholor



Series: Arcana Thirst [2]
Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Chair Sex, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Porn With Plot, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-21
Updated: 2019-09-21
Packaged: 2020-10-25 01:11:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20715620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meloncholor/pseuds/Meloncholor
Summary: Lillian wants to give something to Muriel.





	Sanctuary

Lillian pulled up her wide skirt above her ankles to step over the fallen log blocking her path. She was in her element here, the damp leaves crunching under her bare feet. “Muriel!” She called out again in her sing-song voice. The forest didn’t answer. Her hike hadn’t been long, but the young sorceress wasn’t known for her virtue of patience. There was a basket hanging underneath her arm, covered with a thin piece of cloth and tied with some rough cord she found rummaging through her chest. She was giddy at the thought of him opening it up “Muriel!” She called again, marching through the crumpled leaves and twigs. The sun was getting lower as she ventured deeper into the woods, but her cheery mood was still going strong. Eventually, she came to the fork of what she was assuming was the path to his hut. Furrowing her thick brows she looks down each path, both as foreboding as the other. Instead of making a decision right then, she decides to go back to screaming. “Muriel! Muriel are you close!?” She happily yells into the viridian abyss of the forest. There are another few heartbeats and a loud  _ crack _ thunders through the branches. Muriel pokes his head out of the wide trees in front of her.

“Please stop doing that.” He sighs, stepping into the clearing. He cradles several branches underneath his arm. “You are  _ very _ loud.” 

She giggles. “I was just looking for you!”

He rolls his eyes, but ultimately smiles, plopping an oversized hand atop the woman’s head. “I can see that.” He turns back towards the trees. “Come on then, the chickens need to be fed.” Lillian tottled close behind him as he cleared their path with ease. Her pace slows down behind him, the evening fatigue finally settling in her bones. 

“Muriel?” She chimed, a little out of breath.

“Yes?” He grumbled, stepping over a small stream.

“Have you ever named the chickens?” He takes her by the hand and leads her over the water. 

Quickly releasing her hand, he sighed again as they finally broke through the boundary of the clearing. His hut sat at its farthest edge, heavy stones dappled with grass and moss littered the small area. His garden leaned against the hut, and a sleeping wolf snoozed among the low and broad leaves of his pumpkin plants. Chickens were spattered about here and there, taking their pickings from the menagerie of forest flora.“You know Lillian,” 

“Lil.”

“Lil, you can name the chickens...if you want.” He steps over one of the birds in question, who clucks him a greeting before sprinting back towards the hut.

Lillian looks out across the ten (or maybe twelve) birds in the dilapidated garden and grins so hard she’s sure her face will hurt later. She hooks her free arm around his and he jumps, not expecting the contact. “Really? That sounds so fun!” Muriel flushes a deep red and averts his eyes, but he doesn’t pull away from the touch. They trudge their way to the door and he shoulders it open holding onto the dead branches, she has to pull up her skirt again to descend down the wooden stairs awkwardly as the basket swayed underneath her arm.

Her form heavily contrasted with her surroundings, the vibrant yellows and spring greens of her outfit almost shined against the blacks, grays, and browns, of his home.

“Lillian do--”

“It’s Lil.” She interrupted.

“Right, Lil, do you mind waiting here for a moment?”

“Are you gonna tell me why?” She gives him a mischievous grin, which he only returns with a small smile. 

“No.”

“A surprise! I’m so excited!” She claps her dainty hands together and quickly finds somewhere to sit. Muriel smiles again as she plants herself on a large log serving as a stool and he heads back outside. She remembers her own gift then and shouts to him as she watches him disappear up the stairs. “I have one for you too!”

She hears him grunt, and then the slam of a door. Alone again. The young mage adored this place, sure it wasn’t much to look at on the outside, but the way the fire crackled in the hearth, and the warm furs draped across every available surface, it felt like her homeland. Lillian stood up after a moment, yawning and stretching out her aching limbs. Her eyes were drawn to the far corner where his bed was. Well, less of a bed and more of a hulking pile of furs. Would Muriel mind if she just lay in it? Stepping closer, she could feel her legs were straining from fatigue, and by god, it looked so warm. 

Dropping her basket to the side and hiking up the front of her skirt, she rests her knee on the bed, then followed by the other. She then plops face-first into the warmth, letting the furs consume her. She absentmindedly wonders where he gets them from, but forgets about it as she settles in. She was more than content stretching her weary legs and going limp in the cloud of fur.

There was another door slam and she was too lost in her own comfort to realize and turn around. Muriel clutched his gift in a shaking hand, watching as Lillian wallowed in his bed. “Um…”

“Muriel!” She rolls over to her front, popping up off of the mass of furs. “I didn’t hear you come in!” Lillian giggles and stands up, untangling her skirt from around her legs.

Muriel averts his eyes. “It...doesn’t matter.” He goes even redder as he stretches out his hand. “I, um, made this for you.” The present was wrapped in brown-faded paper, bound with a pristine white cord, it smelled of herbs and flowers. 

Lillian inspected it first, leaning in to take a preemptive whiff. She casts a wary glance up at him before taking it from his hands with an eager swipe. As she sat back down on the ‘mattress’ with the parcel in her lap Muriel sat on a log by the fire, trying his damndest to pretend they were in different rooms. He stuck a poker into the flame and turned it over as he could hear her slim fingers slip beneath the cord. She makes quick work of the simple knot and as soon as it falls away so does the paper.

In her hands, she cradled an intricately carved figurine of a woman. The woman was in the midst of a dance, caught mid-twirl. The hand-carved details of the billowing skirt and the curves of her face made Lillian mirror the joy in the figurine’s eyes.

“I-is this me?” She pointed to her own chest and looked over to him with child-like wonder. 

Muriel didn’t turn to meet her gaze, but she could see the flush deepening at the tops of his ears. “I--yes.” He whispers, turning over a log in the fire. “Do you, um, like it?” He turns a little to whisper the aside to her.

“I always love your gifts, Muriel,” she looks down at the figure, carefully turning it with a dreamy sigh. “And this is more than wonderful.” Her voice drops to a softer octave as Muriel nearly collapses from embarrassment across the room. The figure must have been painstaking work. The curls of the little doll’s hair alone would have taken an amazing amount of skill and practice. And the skirt, she remembered, was one of her favorites to wear to festivals, the wood was soft and smooth and on the very bottom of her heels was the letter ‘M’ carved into it. She held it close to her chest.

“Oh!” She reaches down and lifts the small basket from the side of the fur pile, setting down the figurine along one of the white furs so she’d see it easier. Basket in hand, she bounds over to him, kneeling next to his leg. Pulling away at her rushed job at tying the bundle, she pulled out a slightly pressed bouquet of flowers. The petals were a dark violet, nearly black. Each petal was broad and drooped over to its side, like little bells on a string. As soon as the cloth was taken away, Muriel could feel the woman’s magic radiating in heavy waves from the flowers. She offers the wrapped flowers to him, and he sets down the poker to take them in hand. He liked the way her magic felt in his palm, it was warm, and the flowers smelled of her perfumes and potions as if they had been in her study for a very long time.

“They’re magic!” She sings, she reaches out and sets the tip of her finger on a petal, and to Muriel’s surprise, the flower blooms into brilliant orange, before morphing into a sky blue. She pulls away and the petals go dark again. “I call them Sunshine flowers!” She cheers at him. He takes another look at her and sets the tip of his finger on the petal, and the same result blooms in his hand. 

“You  _ made  _ these?” He says, finally mustering the courage to look her in the eyes. 

She nods. “It took me four months! You would not  _ believe _ how long it took me to find the right color for the orange part. There was this old woman--wait! You don’t need to know that!” She laughs and his heart swells with affection. 

“Thank you, Lil.” 

“Thank you for giving me that figurine!” She flashed a bright smile, and since her confidence now soared, she popped up to plant a firm kiss on his cheek. He had to resist every nerve in his body to jump back at the sudden touch. But it felt...nice. Before she is able to return to her previous position and laugh off the interaction he snags her by the arm with his free hand and pulled her up into another kiss. She obliges the gesture and moves in closer, letting her eyes drift closed and allows him to pull her in closer, inch by inch.

They part for a second, and he’s bright red, sweat beading on his scarred forehead. “That was, nice.” 

She nods with a fervor and goes back in for another kiss. With her leading, he feels more comfortable. She’s able to let a hand rest on the side of his cheek, he sighs and leans into the contact. The kiss is slow, thoughtful even, and the longer it went on, the more comfortable he became with her touch. He moved his own hands to hips, guiding her to stand. She wasn’t sure why, but she followed the silent instruction. He moved her to stand between his legs, so he had to tilt his head up. She rested her smaller hands on his chest, letting them drift across the expanse of scars. His hands stayed planted on her hips, the nervous grip on her body tightening as they continued to kiss. Lillian could feel his hands shaking, and she let her own hands rest on his, giving him her reassurance. He sighs into her lips and his hands relax on her sides and move. They drift down the silken skirt and start to pull it up at the thigh. She lets him, peppering soft kisses on his forehead. Once he feels the skirt is sufficiently moved, he pulls her forward, and she eagerly sets her knees on either side of his legs. 

In this new position straddling his legs, he feels free to explore, and his hands move first along the outside of her thighs, causing her to shiver in his warm hands. His lips find purchase at the base of her throat, leaving soft gentle kisses in thanks as he explores further. She lets her eyes drift closed and allows herself to feel him against her, letting her hands rest on his broad shoulders. Tentatively, his hands begin to move to her rear end, squeezing experimentally over top of the panties there. She can’t help but giggle at his coyness, and he freezes completely, sitting back a little to look up at her. Embarrassed, she meets his eyes. “Sorry…” She says softly. “You’re fine.” 

It takes him a moment to get over his nerves, but he eventually goes back to his ministrations with renewed confidence. He nips softly along the curve of her neck and Lillian moans breathlessly into his ear, and it was then he finally realized how hard he actually was. His member twitched at the sultry sound of her voice. He nipped her again, harder this time, and the reaction was immediate. She violently shivered in his lap, a soft, breathless moan brushing against his ear. He had to hear it again. He squeezed her rear, letting his fingers dip underneath the flimsy cloth. His nerves are forgotten now, spurred on by his own arousal and his lover on top of him. His other hand moves up to pull down the front of her shirt, letting her breasts free from their confines. She keens as he takes one roughly in hand, pulling her close so that they were flush against one another. “Muriel I--” Slender fingers move down the expanse of his chest, resting at the top of his waistband. She pauses a moment until she can feel him nod against her neck, and she makes quick work of the ties. 

A guttural groan escapes him as Lillian takes him in hand, running her thumb over the tip. She strokes the large cock a few times, relieving the pressure that had been building up, but he wasn’t interested in waiting any longer. In a quick motion, he pulls against the thin underwear and snaps it off of her body, letting it fall onto the floor. She gasps but takes the hint, moving her hips forward, but she wasn’t fast enough, and before she could react both his hands were back on her thighs, roughly moving so that she hovered just above him. He’s panting against her neck, and she manages a sly smile at the gasp she gets from him when she lets herself just fall onto him.

It was bigger than she had anticipated. She whines and falls into his chest, moving her hips in small circles to get used to the girth. Muriel had a deathly grip on her thighs, but he didn’t move. His eyes were screwed tightly shut, his whole body was flushed and sweat beaded on his forehead. After a moment, he barely ground out the words. “Li-Lillian can I--”

“Oh god yes.” She whispers, and that was all the permission he needed. His grip on her thighs loosens, and she feels her weight shifting as he lifts her with ease, before slamming her back down on his cock. Both moan into the warm air of the hut. Cerulean eyes met watery green, and she forces their lips back together, sighing into the contact as he begins a new pace, one hand guiding her at her thigh, the other back on her breast, flicking playfully at the nipple.

The sound of skin hitting against skin soon drowns out the roaring fire, and their moans accompany it in a sultry harmony. It’s not long before he’s close, his bruising grip on her hips, slamming her down with every one of his thrusts. “Muriel I-I…” She comes over him with a gasp and a squeal, her liquids splashing along his own thighs,. He follows after with a grunt, slamming her down again with a near painful force. She can feel his cock pulse inside of her before she collapses back onto his chest.

The room falls silent, the fire nothing but embers now. They breathe hard against one another before he hooks his arms under her thighs. Shameless, he forgets to cover himself as he lifts her up. She shrieks in delight as he kisses along her neck, walking them both to his bed in the far corner.

Moving her gift out of the way first, he deposits her on the furs, lewdly covered in their own juices. He lays down next, turning over to face the wall. She crawls into his crevice, curling up against the broad chest. 

“I love you, Muriel.” Her voice is sleepy, but she hears him whisper back as she falls into sleep.

“I, um, love you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Horny hours are at hand babes. Leave a comment if you like, if you don't, or if you just want to call me a fake gamer girl.


End file.
